First Marriage of the Third Duke

THE HOUSE OF BUCKINGHAM

A noble Marquis is married, the heir to the house and the title of Buckingham. The Times of yesterday (Friday) announces the fact, just as it would announce the marriage of a grocer to the Miss who teaches at an Infant school—among the list of marriages. And the County of Buckingham is silent! No mighty preparations; no wreaths of flowers; no Town Council strutting forth in pomp to present addresses of congratulation; no feastings of peasantry with barons of beef and mugs of ale; no special reporter to hand down the brilliant coruscations to posterity; no ringing of village bells, no procession of virgins, no firing of canon, no kindling of bonfires. All we have, is the simple notice of the Times that the Marquis of Chandos was, on Thursday, married, by the Rev. Edwin Hotham, to Caroline, the daughter of Robert Harvey, Esq. of Langley Park.
Ungrateful Buckinghamshire! It was not so once. The noble house possessed fortune, power, and patronage: it was not so in these days. Fortune, power and patronage have fled; and in their stead, we have virtue, grace, and nobleness-where now are the Bucks yeomanry in full parade, the tradesmen in pompous procession, and the clergymen in venerable canonicals? The Marquis marries a commoner, at a moment when pride, selfishness, and vanity would have dictated the restoration of the ancient glory by an alliance with some titled heiress; and this shows his virtue. He sounds no trumpet, proclaims no festivity, enlists no serfs to hold up his coronet; and thus proves his gracefulness. But alas! beauty and nobility have no charms for the retainers of Stowe or the dependents of Bucks, as long as (and we must speak of it) this beauty and nobility is not money!

We shall, however, raise our feeble voice in congratulation, however cold and lifeless be the attitude of slavish retainers. The Marquis, by this act, has consecrated his life to complicity and valour. He has set at nought the purchased applause of a multitude. He has fallen into the ranks, as well as the practices, of the people. He counts splendour a precipice, applause a mockery, and titled honour a snare. There was never a marriage ceremony so hallowed for its humility. And the prayer of every generous heart must be, that the truly noble Marquis may live long to reclaim the name he bears from political ignominy and social disgrace.